


Spirit and Soul

by PointySticksAndAPlan



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bullying, Child Abandonment, Cutting, Explicit Language, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Nonbinary Chara and Frisk, Other, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Selectively Mute Frisk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-06-01 18:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 14,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6531760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PointySticksAndAPlan/pseuds/PointySticksAndAPlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chara, soul long since broken, finds Frisk, spirit long since broken. Perhaps, together, they can mend both of these things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Broken Soul, A Broken Spirit

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains extreme past child abuse. Frisk got it really, really bad. Seriously, though. I put little Frisky through hell and back. Don't read this if that is going to disturb you. 
> 
> Chara got it better, but not by much. Their pain came mostly at the hands of other kids rather than their parents. They seem better adjusted than Frisk, and they are, but that's just because their pain is old, rather than fresh.
> 
> These are broken kids. 
> 
> I did this to them.
> 
> I am going to hell.
> 
> And so are you.
> 
> Get in the van.

Pain.

That’s all Frisk could feel.

So much pain.

It was probably more pain that Frisk had ever felt in their entire life. That’s saying a lot, given how their life had been up to this point. Head-to-toe, their body was screaming at them that they had made a horrible decision in jumping down that hole. Initially, they disagreed, but their body turned out to be very persuasive. 

After a while, their body stopped screaming at them quite as loudly, and they were able to feel something around them. Something ticklish. They pried their eyes open, and saw that they were lying on a patch of golden flowers. The sunlight was streaming down through the hole and lit up the area around them, and though it got progressively darker further down the path that their head was pointed toward, it never seemed to reach actual darkness. The room they were in was rather large, and the walls were made of light grey stone, though it appeared to be tinted somewhat purple by the seemingly sourceless light that dimly lit that which was not within the range of the sunbeam. The walls were cracked in many places and covered with ivy that was not entirely dissimilar from the type that was in the forest now above them. 

Frisk pulled themselves into a sitting position, and they now noticed, to their right, another person. They were staring directly at Frisk, eyebrow cocked, eyes wide. They looked similar to Frisk, but pale, very, very pale, with reddish-light-brown hair instead of dark-brown, and with piercing red eyes instead of soft brown ones. They wore a sweater, similar in cut and style to Frisk’s, although lime and chartreuse colored instead of periwinkle and lavender. They had a light splash of freckles, and appeared to be substantially taller than Frisk, though about the same age. 

The other child spoke, “Hello, who are you?” 

Frisk was never very good at speaking. They could do it, but they often stuttered, and they had trouble putting thoughts and feelings into words. They could do it much easier with sign language, but most people didn’t know it, so they usually opted for silence. 

“H-Hello. I-I’m Frisk.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Chara. Welcome to the Underground.”

As Frisk tilted their head up to the hole in the ceiling, they said, “How long was I out?”

“Not long. About 5 minutes.. I woke up the second you hit the ground, and I tried to wake you up, but you just kept making moaning noises. I checked you out for injuries, and you seem okay.”  
Frisk rubbed their left arm with their right hand, feeling newly conscious of the pain in their arm, which was sharper and more acute than the pain elsewhere on their body.

“Did I miss something?” Chara frowned, scooted themselves over to Frisk’s left side, and started rolling up their sleeve. Frisk whimpered, but didn’t stop them. “Oh come on now it can’t be that ba- oh, well, hm.” Chara looked bemused as they noticed Frisk already had a bandage covering their arm. It appeared to have been used for quite a long time already, as it was stained red in most places, and somewhat damp, as it had been somewhat recently washed for reuse. They slowly started to unravel it, and Frisk hung their head, looking crestfallen. As they finished undoing the bandage, Chara suddenly made a facial expression to match Frisk’s. 

“Oh… oh my god.” Dozens of cuts covered Frisk’s arm, most of them about an inch long, though some deeper than others. It wasn’t a remote possibility that these were by accident, as they were too uniform, too neat. The newer ones nearly shone red in the sunlight, and the white ones, older manifestations of pain, contrasted greatly with Frisk’s skin, several shades darker than Chara’s. Chara ran their fingers lightly over the scars. Frisk winced slightly, eyes welling up with tears.

“It’s… okay, Frisk. You… You don’t have to tell me anything right now.” Chara started to rewrap Frisk’s bandage, being careful not to tie it too tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chara is a ghost, by the way. Frisk can hear them, see them, and touch them, but no one else can. Chara can also touch Frisk, and move them and stuff, but not other objects. Frisk's soul is binded to what is left of Chara's.


	2. The Heir to The Underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara tells Frisk a little about them.

“W-What is this place? The… Underg-ground?” Frisk tried to wipe away their tears with their right arm as Chara finished with their left, though it had little effect. 

“The old legends have died out now, hm? Well, yes, this is the Underground. Home To Monsters, Kingdom of The Dreemurs.” Chara pulled down Frisk’s sleeve, the bandage tightened to a hopefully comfortable degree, and sat up on their knees, making their height difference exaggerated to an even greater degree.

“M-Monsters?!” Frisk’s eyes, normally partially closed, as if they were sleepy, shot wide open, still watery. Chara looked down at Frisk, and sighed internally. Of all the humans they had tried to guide through the Underground, all of them had turned bad in the end. This one would likely be no different, yet, at the same time, none of them had ever looked so innocent, so helpless. This might be the one…

“They aren’t what you think they are. Most of them aren’t gonna try and hurt you on purpose. Monsters are… bizzare. Some of the things they do to try and be friendly can hurt you. Other times, if they do actually know you’re a human, they may attack you out of fear.”

“Why would they be afraid of me? I don’t want to hurt them….”

“Perhaps not, but they don’t know that. Humanity has a history down here, much like monsters do on the surface…”  
Chara told Frisk about the war between the humans and the monsters. Frisk pulled their knees up to their chest, rested their head on them,, and didn’t say a word the whole time. They were looking straight ahead, instead of at Chara. 

“So, perhaps you can understand why the monsters would fear you.”

“Y-Yeah. I’d be afr-raid of me, t-too.” Frisk looked even more uncomfortable than they did before. “How did y-you get down h-here, anyw-ways? I know your name is C-Chara, but WHO are y-you? Why are you h-here? Why are y-you h-helping me?”

“Slow down, Frisk. I can only answer one question at a time. Alright, I got down here the same way you did: I fell. I’m Chara Dreemur. I am, or, rather, I WAS, the heir to the throne of The Underground. I can’t exactly rule now, given how I’m dead and all.”

“Wait, dead?! A-And, h-how can you b-be the heir to the m-monster throne when you are h-human?”

“Yeah, I’m dead. Remember how I said humans have very strong souls? Human souls can persist after death for a short while, and The Underground’d background magical energy amplifies this ability. I’ve been like this for a long time. I’m not exactly sure how long, but decades, at least. Human souls have different colors, which represent different character traits. If I’m right…” Chara reached their hand out to Frisk’s chest, and pressed lightly with the palm of their hand. Frisk eyes grew wide once again as their chest started to grow red. A small, red heart emerged, floating a few inches in front of them. “... Yup. You have a red soul, same as me. Red stands for Determination. That’s what allows me to stick around. All humans have Determination, as I said, but us two have much, much more than normal. That’s what has allowed me to stay in this state, and I suppose it makes sense for you, too... “ Chara stared at Frisk’s left arm for an uncomfortably long time, as Frisk started to rub it again. “Anyways, after I fell down here, I was adopted by the Dreemurs, the Monster’s royal family. Since I was older than their son, Asriel, I was the heir to the throne. That didn’t work out, though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In general, this fic is going to have short chapters, but I will try my damndest to update it at least once a day, hopefully twice on weekends.


	3. The Flower Who Would Be God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara and Frisk meet Flowey.

“Anyways, Frisk, I think we should get going. You know what you need to know, and we aren’t doing anything but burning time.”

 

“O-Okay.” Frisk got to their feet, and tried to brush petals off their sweater and shorts, although with little success. Chara did the same.

“I’d advise you to follow me. There are… puzzles up ahead.”

“Puzzles?”

“Yeah, monsters like puzzles. They aren’t very good at making them, though, so they aren’t very hard. They can be a little annoying though, but I’ve got all the solutions memorized, so it won’t be a big deal.” The two of them started walking down the corridor, beyond the range of the sunlight. Frisk could feel the darkness creeping in on them. They never liked the dark. It was always at night that… bad stuff happened. Luckily, the eerie ambient purple light kept it from getting too dark, so they were able to keep mostly calm. Chara walked a few feet ahead of Frisk, making no sound as their black sneakers “hit” the floor. Chara’s arms swung by their sides, their long, slender fingers in a loose fist. Frisk suddenly felt somewhat flustered when they realized that they were idly watching how Chara moved. They looked up at the ceiling to try to distract themself. The ceiling was high, perhaps 25 or 30 feet. It was rough, unlike the smooth cut stone of the walls and floor. 

They turned a corner, and a new room came into view. A small grassy mound was in the middle of the room, the stone floor cracked around it. In the middle of that stood a single flower of similar variety to the ones that Frisk fell on. It was larger, though, and upon closer inspection… Frisk’s eyes widened in shock once again as the flower ‘grew’ a face.

“Howdy, I’m Flowey, Flowey the Flower! Hmm… You’re new to the Underground, aren’tcha? Golly, you must be so confused. Someone ought to teach you how things work around here! I guess little ol’ me will have to do! Ready? Here we go!”

Suddenly, Frisk’s vision turned… weird. Everything around them became black, except for Chara, Flowey, and themself. They were black AND white, as were Chara and Flowey. Their soul, glowing intensely red in the blackness, popped out of their chest. Chara’s soul also appeared, but it was a very deep, dark red. The color of red wine rather than blood. It appeared to be cracked, the two halves floating slightly apart. It had an aura around it that was the same color as Frisk’s soul, though the soul itself was much darker in color. It also appeared to be smaller, about the size of a golf ball rather than a soft ball. There was a bright red beam connecting their souls, and it seemed to be flowing from Chara’s to Frisk’s. Frisk could hear music playing. It was upbeat and sounded happy, but just ended up being eerie given their surroundings, and, ya know, the fact that it seemed to be coming from nowhere in particular.

Chara looked back at Frisk. “He can’t see or hear me or my soul. Do. Not. Trust. Him. He looks friendly, but I’ve seen his scam half a dozen times at this point. It’s always the same. Avoid his “friendliness pellets”. As Chara had been talking over Flowey, and Frisk had been listening to them instead of him, they didn’t have time to ask what that meant before they saw small, white, spinning ovals appear above Flowey. The pellets started flying towards their soul at high speed, which had drifted to be about 10 feet in front of them, rather than themself. Out of instinct, Frisk willed their soul to move, and it did. They “dodged” all the pellets.

Having composed themself somewhat, Frisk looked more closely at their surroundings. There were some numbers and letters floating in front of them, white, though seemingly giving off no light of their own. They read, “LV 1, HP 20/20”. Frisk had a feeling that this was like a video-game, but they wouldn’t really know. Video-games weren’t something they were allowed to have, and they weren’t really allowed to go to their friend’s house to play them, either. They had stolen occasional glances from the hand-held systems of their classmates, but they never got the courage to ask if they could play.

“Hey, buddy, you missed them.” Flowey seemed to grow annoyed. “Let’s try again, okay?” Frisk dodged the pellets again, fairly easily, given they came in the same pattern. Flowey became to scream. “Is this a joke? Are you braindead? RUN. INTO. THE. BULLE-FRIENDLINESS PELLETS.” The music that Frisk heard started to grow distorted and wonky. They had been called braindead, and much worse before. They were hardly offended, and almost scoffed at how lame an insult it was. Out of habit, they held their tongue rather than dare to laugh. Distracted by the music, Frisk only narrowly avoided all of the pellets, but they managed it.

The music stopped entirely. All was silent for a moment, and Flowey’s face contorted into something out of a nightmare. “You know what’s going on here, don’t you? You just wanted to see me suffer.” A large ring of white bullets surrounded Frisk’s soul. “DIE!” As the bullets started to close in, Flowey laughed. A horrible laugh It was high-pitched, yet it sounded like gargling. Yet another thing that could’ve been straight out of a nightmare. It was so loud that it would have echoed through the entire Underground if it wasn’t for the apparent muffling effect of the blackness. 

Frisk clasped their hands over their ears as a reflex, and shut their eyes closed in pain. Their mind was running at a million miles an hour. “Oh God, please make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop. Please, please, please, please.” They could feel a strong grip on their shoulder, suddenly. They pried their eyes open, still wincing, and Chara, also wincing, was standing next to them. Chara tried to force a smile.

Suddenly, there was a flash of white light, and the laughing stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload, I had to do some stuff today. When I said I will try my damndest to make this updated daily, I meant it.
> 
> This Frisk has no real determination of their own. They got that beaten out of them long ago. They are just feeding off of Chara's determination. They will gain it back, though slowly. Chara doesn't know immediately that Frisk doesn't have any determination by themself, though they will start to notice very soon. Since Frisk is missing such a core part of their being, their personality is gonna be a little dead for a while, but it will pick up gradually as we follow them through The Underground. They will eventually return to the bubbly, happy Frisk that they originally were, before all this horrible stuff happened to them.
> 
> This Chara is also tied to this Frisk by their soul. Chara needs Frisk's soul to be able to manifest semi-physically in the way that they do.


	4. The Flower Who Was God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the fic REALLY starts to diverge from the game.

Frisk cautiously removed their hands from their ears and opened their eyes. In front of them was a tall, but not intimidating figure. Their vision was still being… strange, so they couldn’t really discern the color of it, but the figure was wearing a long, flowing robe that APPEARED to be black with white sleeves, and with a strange symbol on the chest. The figure’s head appeared… goatlike, though humanized to a large extent, with eyes that gleamed red despite everything else being colorless, not entirely dissimilar to Chara’s, which did the same. The figure looked… motherly. Frisk looked over at Chara. They looked visibly uncomfortable.

The figure spoke in a soft, caring voice. “What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth… Ah, do not be afraid, my child. I am Toriel, caretaker of the ruins. I pass through this place everyday to see if anyone has fallen down. You are the first human to come here in a long time. Come! I will guide you through the catacombs.”

Frisk’s vision blurred for a moment, before color returned. Frisk now noticed that the robe was, in fact, the color of dark blue slate, and the design in the middle was white, but on a royal blue background. The figure spoke again, “This way,” and headed through the door across from the one that Chara and Frisk entered through.

Frisk was confused, but decided to bite their tongue, both literally and metaphorically, instead of satiating their curiosity. Luckily for them, Chara decided to explain anyways.

“That was Flowey. He used to be Asriel, my adopted brother, and second-in-line to the throne. The same incident that killed me... killed him too, though he was brought back to life as a flower. I dunno how, though. He was trying to kill you and absorb your soul. If a monster absorbs a human soul… bad things, very bad things. He, um, has… powers we should watch out for. He can, uh, control time.”

“What,” Frisk deadpanned.

“Yeah… In fact, I’m kinda surprised he hasn’t reset ye-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this one is really short, but the creative juices just aren't flowing too well right now. If I get a burst of inspiration later today, I'll do some more.


	5. The Healing Powers of Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fluff begins. Also, the plot. But nobody cares about that, amirite, or amirite?

RESET #1

Pain

That’s all Frisk could feel.

So much pain.

Suddenly, they felt something else, someone was shaking them by their shoulder, as they lay on their side. Shaking really, really hard, too. They could hear what the person was saying, “Frisk, get up, we’ve got to go NOW!” It was Chara.

They couldn’t get up. They just did not have the strength.

“Frisk, I’m serious, we’ve got to go. Come on, pal, get up. I know it hurts, but I can’t carry you!” Frisk could feel Chara’s arms wrap around them, pulling them into a sitting position. They were finally able to pry open their eyes. They were looking directly into Chara’s reddish hair. It smelled like flowers. Lots of different kinds of flowers. It took a while to sink into Frisk’s mind, but Chara was... hugging them? Their heart rose in their chest a little bit. They couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged them, or touched them for any reason other than hurting them, for that matter. It felt… nice. Really, really nice.

Sadly, it ended sooner than Frisk would have liked. Chara pulled away from them, and sat back on their knees, smiling. “So, you feeling better yet?” Frisk still hurt all over, but it wasn’t all-consuming anymore. Chara got up to their feet, and Frisk did the same, though a bit wobbily. 

“Okay, a lot is happening right now, so I’ll explain as we go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter IS really, really, really, short, but I'll try to upload a bunch of times throughout the day. I just wanted to get something out here ASAP.


	6. Ashes of The Heir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara explains Flowey's powers.

Chara took Frisk’s hand firmly, and started walking briskly.

“As I said, that was Flowey. He used to be my adopted brother, Asriel. We both died in an accident. I stayed around due to my determination, he didn’t. The royal scientist, experimenting with the captured soul of another human that fell down here, decided to see if she could animate a flower with determination. It turns out, she was right, but oh boy, she outdid herself. The flower she used was plucked from the King’s flower garden, on which Asriel’s dust had been spread.”

“Dust?”

“Yeah, monsters turn to dust when they die. They are made mostly of magic instead of matter, remember? Anyways, part of Asriel’s soul had remained with the flowers, and so, what remained fused with the determination and the flower, and became… that monstrosity.”

“But w-why does h-he w-want to kill m-me?”

“It was only part of his soul that remained, his memories and experiences, but not really who he was as a person. He used to be so kind, so sweet… He put me to shame. He lost all emotion. Nothing, just emptiness. That’s horrible, but it gets worse. Determination is a material force, remember? Alphys, the royal scientist, overestimated how much she needed to bring life to the flower. By a lot. Hundreds of times. Now, all living things have two measures of determination, current, and potential. His potential determination is just below mine, but he is fixed at his max potential because he has no emotion, and can’t feel remorse, or pain, or anything that might stop him. I have been dead for decades, and you might see how that would make keeping your spirits high difficult. Unless I’m at my highest potential, he has control over time, because of the Underground’s inherent magical field, which boosts the magical power of determination. The power to control time goes to the one with the highest determination, as long as someone is above a certain threshold. Since we have high max determination, we can remember when he resets time, but the other monsters can’t.”

“Wait, if I-I have a red s-soul like you, w-why can’t I-I c-control t-time? I’m n-not d-dead.”

“When you have high current determination, you can feel it in other’s, get a sense of their power. Your determination… is basically at zero. I don’t know why, but I get a feeling….” Chara gestured towards Frisk’s left arm, which they then rubbed self-consciously, feeling a bit ashamed. “Emotional trauma kills determination faster than anything. You are only alive because you were able to sap determination off of me when you fell.” They arrived at the corner that led into the room where they met Flowey, and Chara stopped walking and pressed themself against the wall. Frisk followed their example.

Chara started talking very quietly, though not quite a whisper. “Now, Flowey isn’t all-powerful. He doesn’t have advanced hearing, he can only do so much damage, he can only be in places where there is dirt, and he can be killed, though not for long. The dirt back where you fell is just a pit of dirt walled in by stone. He can’t get in there, so this is the first place where he can attack us. If he dies, then he resets, and we go back to the start. If we get past him, then he’ll probably also reset. If you die… well… let’s try not to think about it. He can’t kill me though, he doesn’t even know that I’m still around.”

Frisk felt confused as all of this information being thrown at them, but they hesitated about asking for clarification. That usually got them hurt. They decided to keep their mouth shut, like always.


	7. Power Shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk resigns themself to their fate. Chara is having none of it.

“S-So, what are w-we going to d-do?”

“To be honest, I have no idea.” Chara looked down, ashamed of themself. They had decades to learn how to deal with Flowey, and they never thought of anything. Their own determination would just barely be enough to hold back Flowey, and it wouldn’t last long.

Frisk’s voice wavered more than normal. “W-Well… It’s hopeless t-then?” Frisk let themself slide down the wall, their sweater coming up slightly to reveal their pink t-shirt underneath. They pulled their knees to their chest, and wrapped their arms tightly around their threadbare, originally white, tights, now stained grey, brown, and red. They buried their face as well as they could, and began sobbing. “I-I guess I really a-am go-” *sob* ”going to d-die down here after a-all.

Realizing that Frisk’s phrasing confirmed what they feared, Chara’s heart sank in their chest. They sat down next to Frisk, and pulled them into a tight hug. 

Frisk would’ve returned the hug if Chara hadn’t trapped their arms. Usually, when they cried, they were just beaten more for being annoying. Being comforted was a very alien feeling to them. They just continued crying, and did so for a long time, until they ran out of tears, and they were just making dry sobs. Chara never let them go.

Eventually, Frisk managed to compose themself somewhat, although it was mostly out of running out of energy to cry rather than actual emotional stability. Chara let them go, and Frisk staggered to their feet. “W-Well, I-I g-guess we should g-get this over w-with.” Frisk began walking around the corner. Chara got up on their feet and followed, but did not stop Frisk. They were right, it was useless, wasn’t it?

Frisk bumbled their way into the room, face wet, eyes red. Flowey was sticking out of the mound of dirt, just like last time.

Flowey grinned a terrible, terrible grin. “Oh, the human has been crying? How sad.” Frisk’s vision blurred once again, and then snapped back into focus, blackness filling their vision from edge to edge, except for Flowey, who seemed to give off a white light of his own. The music that played in Frisk’s ears was different this time. It was a low, repeating, electronic beat. It drummed against their ears. It was much louder, too, almost painful. No, it was painful.

“DIE!” Flowey erupted into that terrible, terrible laughter once again as pellets formed around Frisk’s soul. The music didn’t stop this time. Flowey’s laughter seemed to pierce Frisk’s ears and into their brain, while the music was like the blow of somebody’s fist against the side of their head, over, and over, and over. They had wanted to die, but they didn’t intend for it to be this painful, or take this long.

As Chara watched Flowey’s pellets encroach on Frisk’s soul, they could feel their soul burning in a way that it hadn’t since the day before they died. Burning with hatred. Frisk was the one chance that the Underground, Flowey, and Chara themself had at salvation, and Flowey was about to kill them. They didn’t hate Asriel. They hated what he had become: Flowey, an abomination of magic, science, and nature.

The pellets were slowing down as they approached Frisk’s soul, but they didn’t stop. Chara couldn’t believe it. Flowey was actually ENJOYING THIS? He wanted to drag it out LONGER? Chara’s hatred burned brighter.

No, wait, it wasn’t hatred. It was more than that... it was hatred, and...

It was Determination.

The determination to save Frisk, even without a material body.

The pellets finally touched Frisk’s soul, and Chara watched as their health bar dropped from 20 to 0. Toriel didn’t come. Flowey must’ve set up some vines to delay her.

Frisk fell to the ground, large, brown eyes, tear-stained red, still open, seemingly in shock. They were dead.

As Flowey reached out for Frisk’s soul, Chara mustered everything they had. It had to work. It. had. to. work.

IT HAD TO WORK, GOD DAMNIT!

RESET #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day! I'm doing better!
> 
> You may get a third, but again, no promises.
> 
> Also, no, I did not just solve the conflict that I just introduced. Chara's maximum potential is only just barely above Flowey's remember? They are going to fight tooth-and-nail over this power throughout the story, though they will share saves, and so if Chara makes it to Snowdin and saves, Flowey can only bring them back as far as Snowdin if he takes control back.


	8. Mild Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mild fluff break.

Pain.

That’s all Frisk could fee- wait, no it wasn’t.

They could feel Chara’s arms wrapped around them, holding them tightly. They still hurt, but less so, with Chara holding them. They were able to push Chara away for long enough to pull themselves to a sitting position, and to hug Chara back.

 

“D-Did I… Did I die?” 

“Y-Yup.” Chara squeezed Frisk tighter, holding back tears. Why did they feel so strongly for this person? They were basically a stranger.

“H-How did…?”

“I took control. We should be able to get past him.” Chara let go of Frisk, and pulled back, much to Frisk’s disappointment. They were starting to dig getting hugged, and dying was kind of a traumatizing experience, even if it isn’t painful and you do come back.

“Come on. We should get going.” Chara stood up, now for the third time, and started walking through the corridor. Frisk stumbled to their feet, and followed.

This time, they walked in near silence. All that could be heard was the sound of Frisk’s worn out, too-small sneakers hitting the floor. Chara, being only semi-corporeal, made no sound at all, really. Though Frisk could see their chest rising and falling, their “breathing” made no sound. When they spoke, the “noise” was generated in Frisk’s head. It didn’t actually “come from” anywhere. 

As they rounded the corner, Chara could feel Frisk tense up, wanting to run. They didn’t, though. They were told to come follow Chara, so they would. They were raised to be obedient, after all. Chara took Frisk’s hand to comfort them. Frisk, having never held hands with anyone before, squeezed far too tightly. They didn’t have much muscle for a strong grip, though, so it didn’t hurt Chara, assuming they could still feel pain. They couldn’t hurt themselves by hitting themselves against solid objects, but they couldn’t interact with those at all, so who knows. Maybe Frisk could knock them out. Not likely. Chara could tell that Frisk isn’t the type of person to hurt people under any circumstances, and even if they wanted to, their weak and bony frame wouldn’t likely allow for it.

Chara gripped Frisk’s hand just as tightly.

They walked around the corner, and Flowey wasn’t there. Frisk’s gripped relaxed, but Chara kept theirs just as tight. They crossed the room, both still leery of a potential ambush. It didn’t happen.

“Frisk, since I reset time after you died, he must know that something is up. He’ll probably be looking around for another human. We’ll be safe for a while. There aren’t many places in the ruins he can be, given the stone floors.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll almost certainly get another update today. I have nothing better to do than write, so it is basically unavoidable.
> 
> I'm going to skip over most of the ruins, by the way. Toriel isn't going to come in 'till the end, anyways, and it isn't super interesting. This is not to say I'll be skipping all of it. There is at least one thing in the ruins that is plot important, so we'll see that. I think there is some potential for other cute moments, too, so we'll see what I have ideas for, I guess.


	9. The Glow of Better Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk feels a little bit of their potential.

They walked into the next room, and the first thing that Frisk noticed was the there was a hole in the ceiling here, too. A much larger hole. It lit up the whole room, which was massive. In front of them were two large staircases which were likely once very grand and beautiful, but which had worn with age. They both led up to a massive doorway, which had a sign above it that was heavily faded, but it appeared to be in a language that Frisk couldn’t read anyway. Between the two staircases was a small, twinkling object. There was something odd about it, and Frisk couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

Chara and Frisk stepped closer, and Chara let go of Frisk’s hand, and walked briskly towards the gleaming object. They realized what was odd about the gleam: It seemed to not be an object at all, but just a ball of light! 

Chara knelt down next to it, and touched it gingerly. “Frisk, this is a SAVE point. If I, or Flowey, reset after I or he touches one of these, we’ll come back to it instead of back to my grave, and time will be were it was accordingly. They are sprinkled all throughout the Underground.”

The shadow of the ruins, looming above… it filled Frisk with something… it was determination. Their chest glew bright red for a moment, and they felt a warm feeling in their chest, and then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

Chara smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also extremely short, sorry. I'll try to make at least one more short one today to balance it, somewhat. At least we are consistently making progress. If I wasted time on chapters with no story or character development, we'd be here for the next 139 years.


	10. Sweets Never Tasted So Bitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk takes too much candy.

(Fast Forward)

They walked into a small room. On both sides, there were pools of water that ran the length of the room, and against the far wall, vines reached up to the ceiling. In the center, there was a bowl filled with candy. It has a note on top that says, “Please take one.”

Frisk approached the bowl cautiously, and gingerly took one of the candies. They unwrapped it, and popped it into their mouth. “If I remember correctly, that type of candy has a distinct… non-licorice flavor,” Chara mused.

“Yeah, very un-licorice-like,” Frisk said, relishing the taste, whatever it was. They suddenly felt their scrapes and cuts tingling, and noticed that the cuts on their legs were glowing.

“Monster food is made of magic, just like monsters. Remember your HP bar? It restores that, and it heals your injuries.”

Frisk noticed that, in the last few fights, their HP bar had been getting kind of low.

The sign did say to take ONE, but Frisk hadn’t eaten anything else in days… They decided to take another. As Frisk reached into the bowl, Chara jokingly said, “How disgusting…”

“I’m h-hungry…,” Frisk whimpered, as they took two more, knocking the bowl over by accident.

“You’re the scum of the Earth. You took too much too fast, and the candy spilled all over the floor. Look at what you’ve done.”

Tears filled Frisk’s eyes, and they fell forward to their knees, crying, dropping the candy they grabbed. They started clawing at their legs, now hardly covered by their heavily stained and ripped tights. “I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry *sob* I’msorrypleasedon’thurtmeididn’tmeanitimsorry *sob* please…”

Chara was horrified. They didn’t mean for this to happen. They were just playing around. They used to say stuff like that to Asriel all the time… “Aw, shit, Frisk I’m so sorry!” Chara hugged Frisk from behind, and pulled their arms up from their legs and around their stomach, where they'd do less damage because of Frisk's sweater. “I’m so sorry… It’s okay, Frisk. I was just playing with you. I didn’t know you’d react like that.”


	11. Malicious Intent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara and Frisk prepare for danger, and Frisk stands up for themself.

Chara and Frisk, whose eyes were still puffy and red, approached the tree, Chara holding a spider doughnut, and Frisk holding a mug of spider cider, which they sipped gingerly from time to time. The tree seemed to have grown through the stone floor, as the roots went right down into it. “Every time I see this thing, it looks more and more dead,” Chara mused.

Behind the tree, there was a house, and in front of the house was a save point, which Frisk walked up to and touched, causing their chest to glow once again. The cute, tidy little house in the middle of the ruins filled them with determination.

“Frisk… We still haven’t seen Toriel… She should be in there. I don’t think Flowey should be able to get in there, but…grab the knife.”

“It’s just a t-toy. How w-will that help?”

“It’s better than nothing. Remember, monsters are hurt by malicious intent.”  
“N-No, C-Chara. I w-w-won’t hurt anyone.”

“Frisk… you aren’t going to be able to keep this up forever. There are worse than froggits outside The Ruins.”

“I may not be able to, but d-damnit I’ll try! I won’t hurt anyone!.” Frisk was more than a little surprised at their own assertiveness. Chara was, too, and their huge red eyes flew open in shock. Frisk started to speak again, but their mouth hung open as they just stared into Chara’s eyes. They were… mesmerizing. 

“Frisk, Jesus, are you okay? Calm down. I’m not going to make you hurt anyone.” Chara’s look shifted from surprise to concern. 

“Yeah… I’m sorry….imsorrypleasedonthurtmeimsorry.” Frisk stumbled back against the wall, slid down it, pulled their knees up under their chin, and tried to cover their face and head with their arms. They started crying in anticipation of being hurt, though the blows didn’t come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. This chapter is not very long. I'm sorry. I intended to make a long one, but that just didn't happen.
> 
> Sorry.
> 
> Also, I'm finally feeling better, so you'll likely start getting more updates. Yaaaay.


	12. They Were Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara and Frisk find Toriel.

“Look, Frisk, I’m sorry, but Mo-Toriel has to be in there, and she must be in trouble, ‘cause she was coming to before the last reset, remember?.” Chara helped Frisk to their feet, and wiped the tears from their eyes. Frisk’s eyes were small and narrow, but the soft brown of them gave them so much depth…

Frisk and Chara walked to the door of the small, tidy house. Frisk bent down and gently touched the small ball of light again with their fingers. Their chest glowed again, and they found that the tears stopped coming, and they felt a lot better. The two of them went inside, Chara leading Frisk.

The lights were off in the house, and though that purple glow that seems to permeate the ruins glows even here, it is dimmer than in the rest of the ruins. “Frisk, the lightswitch is right there, can you flip it for me?” Frisk flipped the light, but the lights didn’t come on. “Strange... Okay, Frisk, stay behind me. I can peek around corners and no one will be able to see me.” Chara walked into the room with the fireplace, but Toriel was not in her chair. There was no fire in the fireplace, but there were still some glowing embers sizzling in the dim purple glow. Chara walked swiftly into the kitchen, and then back. “She isn’t in there, either. Let’s check the bedrooms.”

Frisk choked away the last of their sobs as the two walked down the hallway. The only sound was the soft pat of Frisk’s old, worn out sneakers on the hardwood floors. Chara gestured towards the first door, which Frisk opened, before stepping back to let Chara through. Chara quickly searched the room, and walked out, closing the door a little too hard. 

“W-what’s w-wrong?” Frisk looked quizzically at Chara. 

“Nothing,” Chara said, in a very harsh tone of voice. “One more room.”

“Wait, w-what about that one at t-the end?”

“I sincerely doubt she’s in there. Hasn’t been in there in… decades, at least. Remember, I’ve walked the Underground for, damn, 20, 30 years? Longer, maybe? You start to lose track of time when you can’t pick up a knife to mark the days on a wall.”

Frisk opened the last bedroom door, and Chara stepped inside. “Hoooollly shit, Frisk, get in here.”

“What’s w-wrong C-c-c-c-oh.”

Frisk saw Toriel, sitting on top of the bedspread. Lacerations and bruises covered her legs and arms, which were now revealed, as she had pulled up the sleeves of her dress, and had pulled the ‘skirt’ of the dress up to her knees. She was slowly working her paws over these wounds, and they appeared to be healing, though at a much slower rate than how she had healed Frisk earlier.

“Oh. Hello, my child. I apologize that I didn’t greet you when you came in, and that you had to see me… in this… state.” She winced slightly as she spoke, running her right paw over her left arm. “I’m sorry that the lights are out. They run on my magic and, I… had an encounter, and I’m attempting to conserve energy for… obvious reasons.”

Toriel stood up, slowly, attempting to hide her pain and discomfort, and walked toward the door. “My name is Toriel. I am the keeper of the ruins. Please, make yourself at home. I apologize that I cannot make you anything to eat, as I’m certain you are famished, but I simply must conserve my energy for healing myself. I’ll show you to your room.”

Toriel slowly walked out of the room, her left leg limping slightly as she moved. She looked towards the other bedroom. “Oh, it seems you’ve already found it. Well, please, rest. I’m sure you’ve had a rough time navigating these ruins without my help, you must be exhausted.”

Frisk WAS exhausted. They had a long day even before they got into the Underground, and they had to have been down there, what, 5, 6 hours? They were scraped, bruised, cut, and above all, tired. But, they were alive. Frisk pulled themselves into the room, and laid down on the bed. 

Just as Frisk was closing their eyes, they heard Chara’s voice. “Hey, Frisk. You know, I don’t get tired, and I can’t sleep. I wanna have something new to think about, since I’ve had nothing to do for longer than your parents have been alive. What’s the world like up on the surface now, and why did you climb Mt. Ebott?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, guys, I finally found the motivation to right something substantial. Yaay. Hopefully I can start doing this consistently, maybe, hopefully, one day.


	13. 63 Cents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get some insight into what happened to Frisk.

“W-well… that’s a b-bit of a l-long story.” Frisk tried to keep their voice neutral, but more than a hint of sadness came through.  
“Ya know, Frisk, I didn’t say anything, cause it has kind of been a sensitive subject with the other people who have fallen down here, and I thought you would figure it out eventually, but I can read your thoughts and memories, and you can read mine, but only if we let each other. That may be easier for you than saying it. Gives a more… complete view, too.”

“O-okay. How do I, ‘L-let you’?”

 

“Just start thinking and ease your mental grip.”

Chara sat up on the bed, and placed their hand on Frisk’s forearm. They breathed deeply, and mentally plunged themself into Frisk’s memories.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I always hated Christmas. It was an annual reminder of the fact that everyone had more than me. More of everything.

Last Christmas was just the same as the others. I got a new pair of clothes, as I had long ago outgrown my old ones, and walking around naked was illegal, of course. I got to pick them out, as long as she could get them for less than 20$ through any combination of coupons and deals I could scrounge up. This time, I did nothing in my spare time but look for discounts for a whole month. I was determined to have something somewhat nice to wear, or, at least, something I’d enjoy wearing.

A plain pink unisex t-shirt  
A pair of knee-length jean shorts  
A pair of white leggings (I only wore them if I was convinced I could keep them clean that day. She wouldn’t let me get ahold of bleach, and heaven knows she wouldn’t clean them herself.)  
Two pairs of black socks (For the days I couldn’t wear the leggings)

My old shoes still “fit”, so I didn’t get new ones. They fit in the sense that I could get them on my feet and they didn’t leave red marks on them, but they were fairly uncomfortable. I would’ve gotten new ones, but she wouldn’t let me. It “would be a waste of money.” If they got too small to wear without red marks in the middle of the year, it would be up to me to scrounge up the money for new ones. If I didn’t…

I didn’t get a new sweater. I had owned the same sweater for 4 years now. It used to be my aunt’s, but she passed away. Though she had left a significant portion of her will to me, I got nothing. Mother took it, of course. She let me have the sweater, because, “I could sell it, but it wouldn’t be worth the time it’d take to find someone to take the fuckin’ thing.” That was all I got. The sweater was periwinkle with purple stripes. It was far too large when I got it, but I mostly grown into it over the years. I wore it all the time, even though it was hot where I lived, to cover the bandages.

Other than the clothes, I got “The fact that I won’t throw your ass out on the street,” and 5 dollars. I did what I always did with it, I bought ice cream. Triple scoop, butterscotch ice cream on a waffle cone. As always, that came out to 4.37 after tax. I did what I always did with that extra 63 cents. I gave it to a local charity for homeless children. At least I had a house to sleep in. I can’t really say that I had a home, though.

The worst part about Christmas was always when I got back to school. The kids with their new flashy gadgets and clothing. They always looked at me pitifully, but they never even said “Oh, you got nothing for Christmas but the bare essentials and an ice cream cone? How sad,” before they tried to show off their stuff to me. I didn’t understand their toys and electronics. I didn’t try. Actually knowing what I was missing out on would’ve made it all worse.

I said they looked at me pitifully and showed their fancy presents to me, but they were the nice ones.

Most people whispered, not too quietly, about me. I wore the same clothes day in and day out, any stains stayed until the end of the week, when I was allowed to wash them, and I never, ever had anything else new. Same backpack I’d had since kindergarten, being held together with duck tape. Same hairstyle, too long, too shaggy. Same facial expressions, smiles too forced, frowns far, far too sincere. 

Same old Frisky. The quiet kid-no, the mute kid. The one whom people talked to when they didn’t want a conversation, they just wanted something a little more animated than a brick wall to spew their meaningless dribble at. 

The mean ones, well, they were no better than my mother. Not all the scars I came home with were my fault, after all. 

Not all the scars I left home with were my fault, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I posted a thing earlier saying how I was feeling terrible.
> 
> I don't now, really, for some reason. I don't know why. I'm not going to question it.
> 
> Also, yaaaay, wooooo, an update!
> 
> This is all the backstory that we're getting for a little while, by the way. I plan to give it to you guys in chunks. If you think about it, you'll probably be able to figure out when. 
> 
> (Yes, this is partially because I'm putting off the decision to put sexual abuse in this or not. Sorry. I have seriously struggled with this decision, and I'm not going to make it lightly. Rape is a serious thing and it seriously changes people. I don't know if I'm prepared to write that. Also, I'm a sick bastard, but even so, I'd feel bad for Frisk. Also also, I'd have to add two more archive warnings to this fic, and probably switch it to M-rating, and idk if I'm prepared to do that.)
> 
> Also, I have several ideas for original stories, and if you guys want, I could start writing them and posting them on here.


	14. No Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk eats some pie.

The next morning, Frisk woke up and they hurt all over. Not really very surprising. It occurred to them that they hadn’t changed the bandage on their arm in several days at this point. Getting infected down here would be… bad. They pulled themselves out of the bed, and then realized that Chara wasn’t on the floor beside them. Attempting to calm their panic, they opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

The scent of pie wafted through the air. “Good morning, my child,” Toriel waved from her armchair. “Come in here, I made pie for you.”

Frisk walked to the living room, limping slightly due to their injuries. They almost fell into a chair at the table. They didn’t notice before, but Chara was sitting at the table across from them, with an open book in front of them.

“I got bored, and I started wandering around. There was an open book on the table. A draft was turning over a page every once in awhile. It’s about snail facts. It stopped after a while, and I just spaced out.” Chara shrugged.

Toriel had walked into the kitchen while Chara was talking, and she walked back and started to put the pie on the table, but she got an incredibly shocked look on her face. “Oh, my child, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you were hurt so badly. Well, eat your pie. It will heal you.”  
Frisk was pretty sure they were never going to get used to the whole food-as-medicine thing. Ever.

They signed, “Thank you”. 

“Oh, sign language. I’m sorry my child, I never learned signing. I may have a book about it around somewhere… but I’m afraid I have no idea what that meant.”

Frisk understood. Not many people were mute, after all, and, they supposed, even less were selectively mute.

They took a bite of the pie. The warm, flaky crust mixed with the butterscotch and cinnamon in their mouth. It was heaven. Their whole body felt warm and tingly, and they felt their injuries starting to fade. 

They tried not to feel guilty for sleeping in Toriel’s bed and then eating her pie. It didn’t work. Tears welled up in their eyes, but they choked them back and wiped their eyes whenever Toriel wasn’t looking as they continued eating the pie.

As they were finishing up, Toriel looked at them cheerfully and said, “Feeling better? If you want, you can go play with the toys in that room. Well, I suppose they are your toys in your room, now. Frisk was a tad old to play with most toys, being 12, but they decided that since they had nothing better to do, and it was warm and safe in here compared to the ruins, they might as well.

They started walking back towards, “their room”, and Chara followed them. When Chara had entered, Frisk closed the door, and they took off their sweater. It was a little hot in there for it, after all. The bandages on their arms still were covered in brown dried blood stains, but they slowly peeled them off. Their arms were perfect. No scars. “I guess monster food really is magic,” they mused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter a day keeps the doctor away!
> 
> God, I've been seeing the doctor an awful lot then, haven't I?


	15. Hair-Trigger (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara still has a hair-trigger temper.

“Frisk, I realize that you like it here, ‘cause it’s safe., but I suggest we move on soon.”

“B-But, why?” Frisk said, with a notable tone of disappointment

“Don’t you want to live on the surface again?”

“No… w-why do y-you think I climbed the m-mountain?”

“I DON’T KNOW, YOU DIDN’T ACTUALLY TELL ME!” Chara spoke very loudly, almost screaming.

“I’msorryitwastoomuchtosayijustwantedtodieokaypleasedon’thurtme.” Frisk covered their face with their arms and backed against the wall.  
Chara, having calmed down, instantly bolted forward and hugged Frisk.


	16. Hair Trigger (Part 2)

“Frisk I’m so so sorry I can’t holy fuck im sorry.” Chara continued hugging Frisk tightly, and eventually, Frisk wrapped their arms around Chara.

They just held each other like that for some time. When Frisk finally pushed Chara away, both of their faces were stained with tears. Frisk thought they noticed some blushing on Chara’s face as well, but it was hard to tell.

“I’m sorry, Frisk. I-I have issues too. I’m sorry.”

They sat in miserable silence for a long time. It was probably only a few minutes, but it felt like hours to both of them.

“It’s okay, Chara. I know y-you d-didn’t mean to snap like t-that.”

Chara covered their face with their hands.

“Ya know, Frisk, this was my home once, for a brief time.”

“Wait, s-so, Toriel is…?”

“Yup. She’s the Queen of The Underground. This place, we, well, really, they called it ‘Home’. When I came to the Underground, they-she and Asgore-celebrated by moving the capitol of the Underground closer to The Barrier. We called that place ‘New Home’.” Chara lowered their hands from their face. They were full on sobbing again. “Asgore was *sob* never very good with *sob* names…”

“W-Well, I told you part of why I c-climbed the m-mountain. How a-about you t-tell me why you came down h-here.”

Chara looked down at the ground, took Frisk’s hand, and placed it on their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this came a bit later than I thought. The next chapter will be longer, I promise. Sorry for all these short-ass chapters, by the way.


	17. The Demon Who Comes When You Call It's Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara's backstory.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My father was always a right-bastard. From the day I was born, that man wanted me to be his clone. Just as big, mean and bitter as he was. He wanted me to be a soldier, like he was. Well, dear old dad was wrong. I’d never be like him. NEVER.

For one, I took after my mother. Tall, thin, and wispy. My father was average height, but he was built like a god-damn freight train. I also have my mother’s hair. Chestnut brown instead of the black of my father, and curly instead of straight. I did have his eyes, though. Red. Genetic mutation. Albinism of the eyes, and the eyes alone. I was still pale as the driven snow, though, contrasting with my father’s deep tan.

My mother was the sweetest women that ever lived. Total pushover, though. My father, well, not so much. My skin may be near-white but my face was just as often black-and-blue. Arms too. He wanted me to be like him. I wasn’t. If he didn’t get what he wanted? Bad things.

His fat, bony fingers hit like hammers. My delicate ones created beautiful pieces of artwork, for my age. It was all I did, that is, when my father would leave me alone. That was almost never.

He never cared much for school. So, of course, he made sure I wasn’t allowed to. Mostly Ds, an F or two, maybe a C if I was lucky. He’d beat me if I did any better. He said I was wasting time on academics, when I should be trying to get better at baseball. Fuck baseball. All you do is hit a piece of cork wrapped in leather with a stick and then move your legs a few times. Or maybe you use a glove of leather to catch said piece of cork. Or maybe you throw the piece of cork. Boring, no matter how you slice it. But that was what he picked out for me, so I played. I got rather good. I was the designated hitter. I could swing pretty hard, and I never missed. Never. I take pride in my work, even if it isn’t what I wish to do.

I told my mother one day that I didn’t want to be a boy. She asked me, “Well, would you like to be a girl instead?” 

I said, “No. I don’t like dresses or cooking or the color pink. I just want to be a person.”

She didn’t know how to respond. It was 195x, of course. I’m sure the world has become a lot more tolerant since then, giving the way things were starting to go, but at the time, my mother had no idea in the world how to respond. She decided to mention it to my father. Big mistake. 

It cost her her life, but, I feel it would of been more important to her, it cost her her son-no-her child. A part of me died that day. I was 10. My father, he was arrested, tried for murder, as well as multiple counts sexual assault of a minor(Groping little girls in his class. He was a PE teacher.), as well as child abuse. He got a life sentence. No chance of parole. Bastard deserved to die. Probably would, but I’d never know. Child molesters never last long in prison. 

I was put in an orphanage. Most of the kids, well, most of the kids that ever came out of their rooms other than for meals were younger than me. They were so loud. At least back at home, I was able to get peace and quiet sometimes. The nanny would beat their asses raw, but those little bastards never broke. They were always smiling, always giggling and happy. HOW? HOW? EVERYTHING ABOUT YOUR LIFE SUCKS WHY ARE YOU SO HAPPY?!?!?

It drove me insane. One day, about 6 months after I started staying there, I snapped. One of the younger boys called me to play with him. “Hey, Chara, come play tag with me!”  
(It was the orphanage kids who gave me the name Chara, because I would often cook for them, but I wasn’t very good at it because I hadn’t been doing it long, and I would burn things. Some of them liked it, “Char-’em-up”, they’d say. My name used to be Samuel. Samuel died with my mother.)

I think the boy’s name was Jim. He was 6. I wasn’t very muscled, but I was strong for my size, and I was a lot bigger than him. He was standing on the concrete driveway. I picked him up around the waist, and threw him to the ground. Hard. As hard as I could. That cracking sound… I hear that sound whenever I close my eyes. I broke 5 of his ribs, dislocated an elbow and a shoulder, and gave him a concussion. Poor bastard. All he did was be happy. Be a kid. He still loved me like all the younger kids did.

All I did was be a monster. A demon. Chara, the demon who comes when you call it’s name.

...I guess I did end up like dear old dad.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Frisk removed Chara’s hand from theirs. The mental “channel” was still open, but nothing was coming through. Chara stared blankly into the distance, their eyes glazed at some unseen horizon. They started to cry again, as they had stopped while “telling” Frisk the story, but they did not sob or blink, or say anything,, and their tears ran steadily down their face before disappearing when they hit the ground. Frisk wiped their cheek, and the tears smeared, but did not stop coming. Frisk’s hand felt completely dry. Chara finally croaked out, “I-I want to be alone for a while. Go talk to Toriel about leaving.” They lowered their head, crossed their legs, and buried their face in their hands, and they let out the most pitiful sound that Frisk had ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a deep and inexorable feeling that this chapter is shit. Is it?
> 
> I wrote all of this in one session without stopping. Yaaaay.


	18. Really now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk tries to go down the stairs.

Frisk picked up their sweater and tried to wrap it around Chara, but it just fell through them. Frisk picked the sweater back up and laid it out on the bed, and then walked out of the room and into the living room. Toriel was sitting on the big arm chair, reading a book titled, “1001 Snail Facts”. 

Frisk opened their mouth to speak, but their throat tightened up. They could only speak to Chara because they didn’t have much choice, and they felt some inherent connection to them. They couldn’t seem to manage it with Toriel.

“What’s wrong my child?”

Frisk shook their head, dismissing it. Since Chara was so upset, and they couldn’t talk to Toriel, they’d have to find the way out themself. 

It couldn’t be in the kitchen, they’d been in there.

Not in the living room.

Not in the room they slept in. They probably would’ve seen it.

Not in Toriel’s room.

It had to be down the staircase, they decided. They walked out of the living room, and started down the staircase. As their foot touched the third step, it squeaked loudly, and Toriel came bolting out of the living room. She stepped in front of Frisk, took their hand to guide them off the steps, and said, “I think you should play upstairs instead.” Then, she walked back into the living room.

Frisk tried to leave again, “It’s dangerous to play here.”

Again, “It is drafty in here. You’ll catch a cold.”

Again, “It’s dusty down there. You’ll catch a cough.”

Again, “There’s nothing to see here,” Toriel can’t look you in the eye anymore.

Again, “Do you want to read a book?” Toriel is smiling nervously.

Again, “(With a serious face) I do not like the game you are playing.”

Again, “Why not go for a walk in the yard?” She seemed desperate.

Again, “Really now?”

Again. This time, she sighs, and briskly walks down the stairs, faster than Frisk could catch up.  
Frisk decided that they should probably get Chara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Nother chapter, woooooo.


	19. It'll be okay.

Frisk and Chara walked softly but quickly down the old wooden stairs. Toriel didn’t stop Frisk this time. As they rounded the corner down the stairs, they saw a large wooden door, which was ajar. There was a tunnel beyond, with the same stone walls as the rest of The Ruins. 

As they walked down the tunnel, the walls seemed to close in on them. The ambient light of the ruins got dimmer and dimmer. Frisk started to feel claustrophobic, and the dustiness of the passage making it hard to breath didn’t help. As they rounded the corner, Chara suddenly grabbed their hand. Chara looked them in the eye and smirked.

“It’ll be okay.”

When they looked back from Chara to the tunnel, they saw Toriel at the end of it in front of a large, runed door. She appeared to be debating with herself about something. She sighed, rose her hand, and started casting a large fireball at the door. Frisk started running towards the door, full speed. Toriel immediately whirled around and threw the fireball at the ground, causing a small explosion that momentarily blinded Frisk.

“My child, are you okay?” Toriel rushed forward, and then pulled back once she saw Frisk was alright. She looked down, ashamed. “I’m sorry. I was about to destroy the exit to the ruins. I-I can’t let you leave like this others. I won’t let you go to die out there, or… worse. Please, my child, go back to your room. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Frisk looked at Chara. “Frisk, she won’t let you through… you’ll have to fight her.” Frisk’s eyes widened in shock. “I know, I know, but listen. If she destroys that exit, you’ll be trapped here forever, unless someone happens to find that hole in Mt. Ebott and throw down a rope for you to climb up, or I reset. Flowey will get us eventually, Frisk. It’s the only way. Don’t worry. She won’t hurt you... badly.” Chara's voice seemed to falter on those last two syllables.

Frisk tried to talk back, to tell Chara that there must be another way, but their throat tightened and the words didn’t come. Frisk sighed, and their vision turned black and white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be coming soon-ish, I think. Sorry for the slow updates guys.


	20. Again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight.

Toriel seemed to tower over them in the void. As in previous battles, four buttons were displayed before them.

Attack.  
Act.  
Item.  
Mercy.

Frisk pressed Act. They tried to talk, but just like before, every time they had needed to talk about something important before, their throat tightened up and they couldn’t say a word. Not like they would know what to say anyway. 

Toriel threw a large volley of fireballs at their brightly glowing soul, though only a few actually went directly at it, and they were easily able to dodge.

Frisk pressed Act again. They looked at Toriel. Chara spoke, “She thinks she knows best for you, but she doesn’t really know about human children. They need to see the world. Show her that you’re ready, Frisk.” They backed out, and chose Attack instead. They raised the toy knife, and swung very half-heartedly in Toriel’s general direction, and completely missed. They just didn’t have the nerve.

Another volley of fireballs, this time, though, the last one clipped the side of Frisk’s soul and caused them to fall to their knees from pain. It felt like a hot knife cut them, but over their entire body. The yellow HP bar now read “18/20”. “I really don’t wanna find out what it feels like for it to go lower,” they thought to themself as they staggered to their feet, the pain now gone.

They pressed Mercy. “Frisk, you have nowhere to run but her house, and she won’t take this lying down.” Frisk pressed Spare. Toriel sighed, and launched another volley of fireballs. Too many near misses for comfort.

They pressed Mercy again. “Frisk, she’s having none of that. Just… attack her.”

They backed out, and, hand shaking, pressed Attack. They swung their toy knife as hard as they could at Toriel’s side, and it bounced off, doing nothing. A bar appeared over Toriel’s head. “0”, it said. No damage. Chara pressed their face into their hands and laughed. Frisk couldn’t help but giggle a little bit at that. Even Toriel seemed somewhat amused for second,. but Frisk was pretty sure it was just a trick of the light, or lack thereof. 

Toriel sighed heavily again, and flung another series of fireballs. Frisk was doing a decent job dodging them, but one that they thought they had dodged came and hit their soul in the back, followed by another. They screamed so loudly that it would’ve echoed through the ruins all the way to the flower bed where they fell, had the magic of battle not muffled the sound so only Toriel, Frisk, and Chara could hear. They had fallen to their knees again, though in a lower, more vulnerable-looking pose. Toriel flashed a look of more than a bit of sympathy, but she returned again to that stoic expression. Frisk stood up again, and they felt horrible burns on their back. They just started to feel the burn on their shoulder from when it clipped their soul. The HP bar read “10/20.” That wasn’t good. 

They pressed Item, and popped a monster candy into their mouth. Their whole body felt warm and tingly except their burns, which felt cool, and they got in position to dodge again. Another volley, this time, though, they dodged them all cleanly.

They pressed Mercy, and then Spare. Both Chara and Toriel made a questioning expression before Toriel unleashed another round. The patterns of the fireballs were getting more complicated, and Frisk was having trouble keeping up. They came from multiple directions now. 

Frisk pressed Mercy again, and then Spare. They couldn’t attack effectively even if they wanted to, so they just had to keep sparing her until she gave up. She finally spoke again, “What are you doing?” She flicked her wrist, and a wave of fire came roaring to Frisk’s right. 

They Spared her again. “Attack or run away!” Another wave from the right.

Spared her again. “What are you proving this way!?” Another wave from the right. She was falling into a pattern.

Again, “Fight me or leave!” Another wave from the right.

Again, “Stop it.” A wave came from behind Frisk’s soul, and before they could react, swamped it in flames. They collapsed fully to the ground as Chara and Toriel looked on in horror. No screams this time.

HP: “1/20”

Frisk slowly pulled themselves to a sitting position. No burns on their body this time. That was an attack purely at their soul, their very being. Nothing physical about it. Toriel was just pouring everything she had into stopping them. Frisk looked up at Toriel and mouthed, “Please stop hurting me. I don’t want to fight.”

Again, “Stop looking at me that way.” She threw some fire in Frisk’s general direction, but it all missed by miles, and Frisk didn’t even move.

Again, silence. No fire.

Again, silence.

Again, “I know you want to go home but…” 

Again, “But please… Go upstairs now.”

Again, “I promise I will take good care of you here.” Frisk could see Chara wincing out of the corner of their eye.

Again, “I know we do not have much, but…”

Again, “We can have a good life here.”

Again, “Why are you making this so difficult?”

Again, “Please, go upstairs.”

Again, silence.

Again, this time, much to the surprise of both Frisk and Chara, Toriel laughed.

Again, “Pathetic, is it not? I cannot even save a single child of eight.”

Again, silence.

Again, “No, I understand. You would be unhappy trapped down here. The Ruins is very small once you get used to them. It would not be right for you to grow up in a place like this. My expectations… My loneliness… My fear. For you, my child... I will put them aside.”

Frisk’s vision went back to color.

“If you truly wish to leave tThe Ruins… I will not stop you. However, when you leave… Please do not come back. I hope you understand.”

Toriel leaned down and hugged Frisk. Toriel felt warm and her fur was so soft. Chara, leaning on the nearby wall, looked down at the floor and kicked their foot from the wall to the floor repeatedly. 

Toriel stood up, and as she walked away, she said, somewhat quietly, “Goodbye, my child.” She looked back, just for a moment, and then rounded the corner, and was gone.

Frisk pushed open the massive runed door. It was suprisingly easy to push open, given it's size.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's the next chapter I promised.
> 
> We saw a little bit of Frisk's determination back. They didn't have any other option, really, but at least they were able to push through it instead of just falling on the floor and not getting back up, eh?


	21. Regicide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowey.

Frisk and Chara were greeted by another corridor, this one, though, had no ambient glow. At the end, there was another grass patch lit by a halo of surface light. Flowey was sitting in the very center of it.

“Howdy there, Human, nice to see you again. Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot, hm?”

Frisk smiled to themself. Maybe Flowey could be good?

“I think that some explanation is in order. You seemed to have discovered your ability to reset, is that right? That comes with having a high determination. Now, before you came along, I had that power instead. As you saw when I used it. Now, based on your demeanor in our… unpleasant encounter, you don’t seem to have much determination, do you?” Flowey’s face contorted into that horrible monstrous… thing. “How about we make a deal? You tell me what tricks you’re pulling, and I LET YOU LEAVE THE UNDERGROUND ALIVE?”

Frisk looked to Chara for some kind of guidance. “Don’t trust him, Frisk. I’ve… I’ve seen all of what he’s done. He’ll betray you.”

Frisk was torn. They didn’t want to have to keep fighting Flowey again and again, but they didn’t think it was such a good idea to tell him about Chara…

Frisk, summoning all the will they had, tried to speak, “i-i’m m-more d-determined t-than you might t-think.”

Flowey’s face returned to its normal, arguably cute state. “You’re lying to me. I can feel it. That’s not a good thing to do.”  
As Frisk’s vision turned black and white, they immediately rushed toward the actual exit door behind Flowey. That music was playing again. So loudly. It felt like Frisk’s ears were going to bleed. The buttons still appeared in front of them as they ran, and they immediately mashed “Mercy” and then “Run”. Their vision turned to color again, and Flowey sent up a wall of vines to block them, but they just barely slipped through before they tightened, making passing impossible. Chara had the same instinct, and though they were a little slower, so their arm would’ve got caught between two vines, they were incorporeal, so they got through instead. The wall of vines came down, Frisk’s vision turned back to black and white, and they again mashed the run button. 

Flowey screamed at them from the room with the grass patch, now almost a hundred feet back. “You can run, little human, but you can’t hide. I ALWAYS KNOW WHERE YOU ARE, AND I WILL KILL YOU!”

Frisk pushed open the door, tripped and fell face first into snow, felt Chara land on top of them, and then heard the door slam with a resonating crash behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Nother chapter. I am on a roll.
> 
> By the way, Flowey thinks Frisk is Chara, but doesn't know for sure. Psychopaths can't remember faces, yeah? He isn't letting them know he thinks they're Chara, though, because he thinks he might be able to use that for leverage later, like he does in the genocide run/


	22. He Knows

Chara rolled off of Frisk, and quickly tried to help them up. Frisk was not in good shape. They weren’t hurt physically, but they had almost no energy left. That had used almost all they had left in running from Flowey. They had no food left, as they had only brought one candy with them.

Slowly, painfully slowly, they got to their feet. Already, their clothing was becoming wet from the melting snow. 

“F-Frisk, are you okay?”

“”I-I’m f-fine.” Frisk was very clearly NOT fine. They seemed to suck energy from the world around them, they were so worn down. Unfortunately, the world was sucking energy from them, as it was very, very cold.

Frisk trudged forward, and Chara trailed behind, shooting guilty glances at Frisk every once in awhile. “I shoulda told you to ask Toriel for a coat or something.”

“It’s f-fine, r-really. I-I’m oka-” Frisk was interrupted as they fell forward. “im… so tired.”

Frisk curled up in a ball, and didn’t move. 

“NO, FRISK, GET UP, PLEASE!” Chara kneeled down and shook Frisk. “Please.” They hugged the smaller child closely. “You’ll be okay, there’s a town not too far from here. Come on, you just gotta move.” Frisk didn’t respond. Chara attempted to lift Frisk up, but Chara was never strong to begin with, and Frisk was only slightly smaller than them, so they couldn’t even get them to budge.

“Please…” Chara buried their face in their hands.

Suddenly, Chara heard a loud cracking sound, and they looked up, and saw a very short skeleton wearing a blue, fur-lined hoodie, slippers, and basketball shorts. Sans.

He picked up Frisk, looked around briefly, and disappeared with Frisk. “What the f-” Chara didn’t have enough time to finish the phrase before Sans returned, placed his hand where Chara’s shoulder was, and disappeared again. This time, though, Chara went with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All will be explained in time, my fellow Undertale trash.


	23. An Unhumerus Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans reveals quite a lot.

Chara’s vision blurred, and then refocused. It was warm here. Chara looked, and could see Sans laying Frisk down on a bed. They were at the Snowdin Inn. 

“yeah, i know youre there. dont move. im gonna go pay for the room.” He disappeared again, and then reappeared before Chara had time enough to get over the shock.

“your friend here, well, i presume theyre your friend, has had a rough day, havent they?”

Chara sputtered in confusion and disbelief. No one but the humans that had fallen down had ever seen or heard them since they died.

“you dont have to answer. i cant hear you anyway. i know youre there, though.” Sans pulled a device out of his pocket. It was about the size of a pocket notebook, and had a screen that covered about half of it, along with a number pad, and some other buttons that Chara didn’t recognize. “determination tracker. im a guard after all, i need to know where to look.”

Sans sighed heavily and sat down in a chair next to the bed. “havent slept in two whole hours. im *dead* tired.”

Chara groaned.

“i cant make you stick around, by the way. only know you’re there. cant do anything about it ‘cept take you through the shortcuts. thats...a gift i have, i suppose you could say. i took you with me so you can keep helping out your friend here. im generous like that. id ask you what happened, but you cant tell me anyway, chara.”

Chara’s eyes widened, and they gave a flustered and confused look, though it fell on blind eye sockets.

“yup. the determination tracker cant tell me who you are, but that reading is REAL high, and i still have the old royal scientist’s notes laying around from when he was prototyping this thing. youre quite the determined kid, arent you? this one though,” Sans said, gesturing to the now sleeping Frisk, ”not so much… and this is real sensitive. most monsters i can at least detect from a few hundred feet, and you… well… lets just say i had no trouble.”

“now, i made a promise to protect your friend here. im not gonna hurt them, and no one else will without going through me.” Sans’ eyes lost their color, and his smile was pulled even more taut than normal. His happy and carefree tone evaporated like a drop of water hitting concrete in the Arizona Summer sun, and was replaced with a monotone, carefully calculated one.“That includes you. If you try anything, I WILL find a way to make you have a bad time.” He instantly returned to his normal, jolly demeanor.

“ya know, its rather *humerus* that i just took you two through a shortcut passed all the snowdin guards, given that im a guard and all. not exactly great at my job, am i? oh well. some things are more important than job security. like naps. speaking of which, imma check out before your friend wakes up. i dont wanna have to explain this again. explaining is tiring.” Sans disappeared again.

Chara, still stunned at these many revelations, sat down. At least they had something new to think about. How long had Sans known they were in the Underground? Why didn’t he say something? So many questions, but no way to ask them…

Before Chara nodded off into day-dream land, they stood up and went over to Frisk. They took Frisk’s hand in theirs, and said, in the quietest non-whisper they could manage, “Please get better soon.” They leaned down and pecked Frisk on the forehead. They told themself that they did it ONLY so that maybe Frisk would be a little comforted if they could feel and hear them, and might recover faster, as it was mostly damage to their soul, and more of a mental than physical thing, after all. They did it just to help Frisk out. It was a purely Samaritan gesture, they assured themself.

They knew they were a filthy liar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The true fluff begins.


	24. Snowdin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING*
> 
> Bad child abuse at the start of this one. Skip to past the dotted line if you don't wanna read it. Though you started reading the fanfic tagged with torture, so idk.

Frisk tripped over their old, frayed shoelaces, and dropped a mug filled with whisky their mother requested. It shattered as it met the old, stained, linoleum floor. Frisk felt a jab to the side of their head as they collapsed to the ground, landing on the shards of glass.

“Worthless! You can’t do anything right!” Frisk felt a sharp pain in their side. And again. And again. Now one to the head. “Why do I even feed you? You’re lucky I’m generous like that and don’t just let you starve.” Frisk groaned softly. They wouldn’t have dared said that she often did let them starve. It would’ve only made it worse.

“You’re just like your father. Worthless and weak, and you aren’t a tenth as pretty or smart as me.” A blow to the leg. Now the arm. 

Their mother walked away for a moment. That was never a good sign. “Fucking useless. How did you even come out of me, you dumbass?!” They heard the belt whistle through the air before the metal buckle connected with their temple. A screaming pain rushed through their head as they felt it hit them at different parts of their head. Jaw, brow, cheek, temple again. Again and again and again. “You can’t fucking do a damn thing right. You can’t even be a pretty little girl who keeps her damn mouth shut. You ain’t pretty, though you sure do keep that mouth shut you fuckin’ mute.” Again, and again.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Frisk woke up with a gasp, and Chara was instantly at their side. “Are you okay, Frisk? Nightmare?”

Frisk nodded vigorously, and when Chara reached out to hug them, Frisk jumped backwards while covering their face. “N-no. D-don’t touch me p-please.”

Chara backed up, and sighed, crossing their arms. “I don’t suppose you want to talk about it. I heard you mumbling, and yelping in pain, but whenever people woke me up during nightmares, I had panic attacks…”

“I-I’d rather n-not t-t-talk about it. W-wait, how did w-we even get here?”

Chara told Frisk about Sans, and everything he said to them, including the Determination Tracker and his threat to Chara should they hurt Frisk. 

“Maybe we should look around town, if you’re feeling better.”

“Y-yeah. Now t-that I’m c-calm I’m o-okay.” Frisk decided to trash their leggings. Blood and dirt stains covered them, and they were ripped to shreds. No real point in keeping them on.

As Chara and Frisk turned to walk out the door, they saw a hoodie, like Sans’, but a deep purple, and a little smaller, hanging off the coat hook on the door. It was a few shades darker than the stripes on Frisk’s sweater, had a removeable faux fur lining, and had a note attatched to the wrist. “it was a gift from a long time ago, but never really my color. never had the heart to throw it away. get good use outta it, will you?” There was also a pair of deep Indigo jeans. They had a note too. “my brother found these in waterfall one time. they fell into the dump there. don’t worry, they’re clean...ish.” 

Both the hoodie and jeans were several sizes too big, but Frisk was thankful for them. They pulled on the hoodie, rolled up the jeans, and tightened their battered, frayed, and aglet-less shoelaces.

As Chara and Frisk walked out into Snowdin, they were shocked by just how cold it was. Both of them grew up in very hot areas, so this was definitely new. Frisk had to wear a sweater when it was 50 degrees or they felt like they’d freeze to death, and it was closer to -50 than to 50.

Frisk’s breath crystallized in front of their own eyes as they exhaled the crisp, dry air. “Woah.”

They took slow steps, relishing the crushing feeling of the snow beneath their feet. They were lucky if they got frost on the rooftops in the dead of winter where they lived. The town was on a ridge, and below it was a massive, seemingly endless forest. 

Chara explained, “There’s a lot more to The Underground than the path from The Ruins to The Barrier. I never really strayed far from the main populated areas, though, so I don’t really know what’s out there.”

There was a large ball of light on the horizon that lit the areas up well enough to see. It was like twilight, almost, but the light was slightly red tinted instead of the yellow-orange of the surface.

“That’s The CORE. It provides energy to the whole Underground. It’s surrounded by magma, and there are lights all over it, so it gives this area light. It’s always twilight here in Snowdin.”

As monsters walked by, they looked at Frisk out of confusion for a moment, but didn’t really question them and went about their business. “No one, well, very few down here really hate humans. The war was just so long ago, and, well, monsters have a hard time holding grudges.”

Frisk and Chara went into the little shop that was connected to the Inn. They bought a pair of pink leather gloves, and a bandanna (with, strangely, abs drawn on it,) to protect their face from the cold. They imagined that they were starting to look rather silly at this point. They also got some cinnamon bunnies for the road, and they decided not to eat one then because they weren’t THAT hungry. The bicicles provided excellent opportunities for puns, but they felt that a cold snack in this weather was a little absurd.

There was a Christmas tree in the middle of town. How cute! “The Underground adopted Christmas from stuff that fell down in The Dump in Waterfall. DVDs and stuff like that. There’s another tradition to, there’s this monster that all the teens liked to harass by decorating his horns, so other monsters started giving him presents to make him feel better.” 

“There isn’t much in the library I haven’t told you. At least in terms of stuff you need to know. It’s mostly fiction. How about we go to the local restaurant?” As Chara turned back to face Frisk, they saw them already walking up to the Northern part of town. As they got close to the river, they saw a snowman. 

“Hello there, traveler, I cannot move from this place. Could you please take a piece of me with you on your journeys, and help me see the world?” Frisk nodded, and accepted a piece of the snowman, and put it in their pocket. Although it was cool to the touch, it wasn’t cold, and it didn’t seem to melt at all.” The snowman wished them good luck on their travels as they turned to start their walk to Grillby’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two in one day, and they are both kinda long? *gasp*


	25. Unexpected Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus.

As Chara and Frisk walked into Grillby’s, they noticed that a bunch of people were staring at them, unlike the monsters in the town. “Frisk, those are the Snowdin guards…” Chara said, with a quiver in their voice. They all looked at Frisk with a panicked shine in their eyes. 

A dog wearing a black mask started laughing. “We’re off the clock. Don’t worry.”

Frisk took a seat at the bar, and Chara “sat” in an empty seat next to them.

Frisk opened their mouth to ask for a menu, but stopped. Oh yeah. They got so used to being able to talk with only Chara around. The bartender, who Frisk assumed to be Grillby, gave them a quizzical look, but his attention was quickly turned when someone came bursting through the door.

A tall skeleton appeared wearing… frankly they had no idea what he was wearing. He shouted at the top of his lungs, “SANS, SANS, WHERE ARE YOU?”

“That’s Papyrus. Sans’ older brother.” Chara sighed and started rubbing their eyes. “He’s a piece of work.”

Papyrus looked at Frisk. He leaned over hilariously far to one of the dog guards. He said, in a painfully loud stage whisper, “IS THAT…” They nodded at him. “HOW DID THEY GET PASSED ALL OF YOU?!?” They all shrugged and murmured. The two in armor both just made whimpering noises.

“I...I THINK I NEED TO SIT DOWN.” Papyrus walked briskly over to the bar seat next to Frisk, and plopped down right into Chara, who quickly slid off the stool to go sit in an empty booth. Grillby looked expectantly at Papyrus.

“I WOULD LIKE SOMETHING TO EAT, BUT I AM NOT YET AN OFFICIAL ROYAL GUARD MEMBER, SO I AM NOT PAID!” Frisk gave Papyrus a look of sympathy, and pulled a handful of gold coins out of their pocket, offering it to him. “WHY THANK YOU, TINY HU-WAIT. I CANNOT ACCEPT THIS MONEY. YOU ARE A HUMAN, AND I AM SUPPOSED TO CAPTURE YOU!”

Papyrus’ bones rattled in his chest. “...I WILL ACCEPT YOUR MONEY. THANK YOU, TINY HUMAN! WITH THIS FOOD, I WILL BE MORE ENERGIZED AND READY TO CAPTURE YOU!”

Papyrus ordered a burger, then told Grillby to hold on for a moment. “TINY HUMAN, WOULD YOU LIKE A BURGER AS WELL?” Frisk nodded enthusiastically. “DO NOT WORRY, THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL PAY FOR YOU,” Papyrus said as he handed Grillby the rest of the money that Frisk gave him.

As they munched on their burgers, Papyrus loudly discussed all of his puzzles and traps he had set for Frisk, while he wondered aloud how they possibly got through them. Chara continued twiddling their thumbs in a booth by themself, looking somewhat forlorn. While Papyrus was taking a breath, Frisk gestured to them subtly to come sit on the their right, as Papyrus was on their left. As Chara sat, Frisk took their hand and held it underneath the bar. Chara, obviously flustered, tried to cover their face while Frisk giggled at their embarassment. “WHAT IS SO FUNNY, HUMAN? I DID NOT REALIZE MY PUZZLE IDEAS WERE SO HILARIOUS TO ANYONE ELSE!” Frisk hesitated, but then nodded in confirmation, smiling. They continued looking at Papyrus as he talked, but squeezed Chara’s hand gently every once in awhile. 

“WELL, HUMAN, MY BREAK IS OVER! I WAS JUST GOING TO LOOK FOR MY LAZYBONES BROTHER, BUT THIS HIGHLY ENGAGING CONVERSATION DISTRACTED ME!” Papyrus stood up and walked out the door.

Frisk let go of Chara’s hand, they finally stopped covering their face, and looked at Frisk with more than a hint of disappointment. Frisk quickly signed under the bar, “We should probably go now.” They left a 50% tip on the bar in front of their seat, and walked out the doors into the sub-zero embrace of Snowdin.


	26. (Not actually a chapter) Anybody out there?

So it's been a long time since I've updated either this, or the 2.0 version of the fic. Life's been hell. But I've seen that people are still reading this, and I get notifications that people left kudos on it quite a lot.

So if anyone out there would like to see this continued, I'm at a much better place in my life right now, and I can definitely make that happen. I can continue it from the original, the second version, or I could start fresh once again.

Anyone out there give a damn?


	27. The People Have Spoken (Not actually a chapter.)

Since so many people asked for it, I'll definitely be continuing this fic in one form or another. I'm going to take a couple days to mull over what exactly to do with it, and then I'll get writing. You guys should have a few chapters by the end of this weekend at the latest.

It means a lot to me that so many of you apparently really like this story. <3


	28. It's Out (Not an Actual Chapter)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9327899/chapters/21136340

Hope you guys enjoy! I've already started on chapter two.


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